


Written in the Stars (or on the dance floor)

by parxdoxical



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And in love, F/F, Genderswap, Getting Together, Masquerade Ball, Mutual Pining, Pining, Remy is oblivious, Remy loves Sirah, Sirah loves Remy, blink and you miss it angst, dance lessons, it's actually very simple, mysterious admirer, those two oblivious idiots i swear, very in love, very slight angst, with Sirah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parxdoxical/pseuds/parxdoxical
Summary: Remy has a dance date with someone she doesn't know.Sirah teaches her how to dance.Complications ensue.





	Written in the Stars (or on the dance floor)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arguedontfight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arguedontfight/gifts).



> Hello, and welcome to this little something.  
> Davina and I were talking about fem!Sirius headcanons and then I just had this idea and had to write it.  
> I totally fell in love with these two idiots, I hope you do, too.  
> I don't own these characters, I just genderswapped them and made them gay. Oops.  
> Enjoy!

The note was lying innocently on the pile of books in the corner of her desk. It almost seemed to be taunting her, mocking the way her eyes wandered back to it and abandoned her potions homework every few seconds. 

"Your eyes make the stars pale in jealousy and your smile outshines the sun, even when he paints the loveliest colours in the sky, your smile will always draw me in. To me you are everything. Meet me at the Masquerade Ball on the 28th. I'll be there. Love, P." 

By now she new those words by heart, she just didn't know whom they could possibly be from. 

Remy Joan Lupin didn't have suitors. It just didn't happen to her. Most boys and girls in her year only saw the long messy locks that fell into her eyes, the oversized sweaters and cardigans the skirts that reached down to her knees where her knee socks ended, all of it hiding the ugly scars from turning into a raging monster once a month. They saw the many books and the huge, round glasses perched high on her nose, she had to wear because all the reading with no light had damaged her eyesight, and they saw her friends, especially Sirah and Jane, and they wondered why Remy even belonged to them.  
Sirah and Jane, they got the attention, and Remy was fine with that, she had always been. This was massively overexerting. 

Remy let out a groan and dropped her quill onto her desk, her hands coming up to rake through her thick, brownish blonde hair. She couldn't concentrate with this particular piece of parchment sitting there, directly next to her. 

The Masquerade Ball of all things. 

Remy hadn't planned on going there, she didn't even own a dress for such an occasion, not to mention a mask or heels. She always wore her brown boots with everything, they resisted any weather and fit like a second skin around her feet. If she decided to go, she would have to go and buy everything and while she knew that her friends would certainly help her out financially, she didn't want to be this reliant on them and such a burden. 

With a heavy sigh, Remy lifted her head slightly off her desk and glared at the note accusingly. "This is all your fault," she grumbled, before putting the piece of parchment between two pages of her potions book and slammed it shut. She would deal with this later. For now she had other things to worry about, like the voices of her two best friends coming up the stairs. 

Jane Euphemia Potter was the first one to arrive in their dorm room, her messy black hair even more tousled from the wind outside, her square glasses sitting dangerously low on her nose, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. She was quickly followed by Sirah Oriana Black, whose short black curls were hidden under a huge beanie, her uniform slightly dishevelled. They were both smirking like they just plotted the best prank of their lives and no one could know about it and Remy just sighed again, before getting up from her spot at her desk. 

"Hey there, Moony!" Sirah grinned and Remy just lifted her hand in greeting, too deeply engrossed in her thoughts about the mystery note to pay much attention to her friend. Sirah raised an eyebrow. 

"Hey, what's got you all thoughtful like this? Don't you wanna know what exactly it is, we're planning so you can tell us to drop it but then join in on it anyway?" she asked and Remy just shook her head. 

"Nope, not today, sorry, Pads. Got a lot on my mind," she knew how weak of an excuse that was and she could definitely tell that her friends knew as well. Jane shared a quick look with Sirah before sitting down on her bed across from Remy, who had pulled out one of the little chocolate treats she had stacked in the top drawer of her night stand and was now taking little bites from it, to savour the taste. 

"Okay, Moony. Spill. What is going on?" 

Sirah joined Jane on her bed and together the two of them stared at their friend who grew more and more uncomfortable under their gazes. 

Technically Remy knew she could trust her two best friends with anything. They might be annoying and right out obnoxious sometimes but in the end, Remy knew they would have her back, no matter what happened. But for some strange reason Remy couldn't bring up the courage to tell them what exactly it was that made her all secretive and weird. 

"It's nothing, really. I was just wondering about this Masquerade Ball at the end of the month and if I should go or rather not," she mumbled more to herself than to her friends but they heard her nonetheless. Immediately identical grins appeared on Sirah's and Jane's faces and they shared a look. 

"You're going. Oh, you're definitely going," Sirah announced, almost at the same time as Jane's: "And we're taking you shopping for a dress and heels and a pretty mask and the others won't know what hit 'em, seriously." 

Remy blushed at their words but just shook her head. 

"You know that I have like no idea how to dance, right? I would just stand in the corner awkwardly while anyone else has a blast. Thanks but no, I don't need something like that," she declined but Sirah made a dismissive gesture and grinned at Remy. 

"No problem, I'm gonna teach you. Finally all those dance lessons as a kid pay off and I can use all that stupid stuff." Sirah didn't look like she was gonna take no for an answer, so Remy just sighed and gave a curt nod, holding up one finger. 

"Under one circumstance: You're going, too. And you're buying dresses as well. I'm not gonna be the only one making a total idiot of herself in the store."  
Jane just grinned and caught Remy's hand in a high five. 

"You bet on it." 

 

Remy had known that it had been a bad idea. What had she been thinking, accepting Jane's offer to teach her how to dance? Surely her chocolate had had some kind of potion in it because right now it just felt like an awful idea. But now it was too late and so here she was, in the Room of Requirements, in half of her uniform, knee-length skirt, blouse with the sleeves rolled up, a sweater vest and her trusted boots, tie loosened around her neck and her knee socks rolled down a bit. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun low on the back of her head, held in place by two pencils. 

Sirah was setting up the phonograph in a pair of high waisted, plaid cotton trousers and a band t-shirt tucked into them, her short black hair once again hidden under a black beanie and she was wearing her standard black converse, already battered and broken to hell but Sirah would never get rid of them. Remy couldn't help but stare as Sirah leaned forward a bit only to blush furiously and avert her gaze. Goddammit, it wasn't her fault that her friend looked gorgeous in those slacks. Remy audibly cleared her throat. 

"Uhm, Pads? You know you don't exactly have to do this. I think I'm gonna be fine with just standing on the side lines for one night," she suggested tentatively and Sirah just rolled her eyes. 

"You're on the side lines all the time, Moony. That night is your time to shine. Make the stars pale in comparison and all that shit," she said while the first notes of the waltz from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake rang through the room. Remy just stood there, frozen in place and stared at her friend. She knew that line. 'You make the stars pale in comparison.' The little note. That couldn't be, right? That was impossible. 

Remy lifted her head a bit to look at Sirah for any sign, that could confirm her suspicion but her friend was simply standing in front of Remy holding one hand out to her, an almost shy smile gracing her lips and Remy felt herself falling. 

With a sigh, Remy took the offered hand and let out a little shriek, when Sirah pulled her against her chest, her other hand coming up to rest on Remy's lower back. A grin took over Sirah's features as she guided Remy's hand up to her shoulder and pulled her even closer to her body. 

A furious blush overtook Remy's cheeks and she stared at their feet, trying her hardest not to look into Sirah's eyes, which earned her a little chuckle from her friend. 

"Don't look at your feet, Remy. Just look at me and trust me. Hey," Sirah mumbled and Remy slowly lifted her head, which made Sirah smile, "There you go, okay. No, I'm gonna teach you a simple waltz step first and then we'll see how you're doing before going on to the harder steps, okay?" Remy nodded, cheeks still bright red, but Sirah simply chuckled softly and started the music with a flick of her wand. 

 

The two of them spent hours in the Room of Requirements, day after day. As soon as Remy got the simple steps down, they would move on to turns and slightly more challenging moves, that left Remy breathless and that not only from the exercise she was getting. After some time, Sirah brought a pair of heels for Remy to practice dancing in and for that lesson, Remy felt like she was back to square one. 

More and more notes had appeared in Remy's school books over the course of those days, reminding her of the ball and making her little compliments on the way her hair looked that day or the new sweater she was wearing. All of them were signed with "P". Remy always tried to hide them from her friends but Jane, as nosy as ever, had managed to grab one of them and read it aloud to Sirah and Petra who were sitting next to them. Remy had blushed furiously but just grabbed it back from Jane, even though she had kept a curious eye on Sirah's reaction. She couldn't help the feeling of her heart sinking, when Sirah showed no reaction to the note other than her usual teasing. 

Remy's feelings were growing more confusing each day. On the one hand she wanted nothing more than to finally find out who her mystery admirer "P" could possibly be but on the other she couldn't figure out what the squeeze in her heart meant, every time Sirah flirted with someone else or the fluttering in her stomach whenever she was pulled to the other girl's chest after a turn. And Remy had no idea what she should do about it. 

The two girls practised everyday, fitting together perfectly, Sirah leading the dance and Remy effortlessly following her. It was three days before the ball and as soon as Remy walked into the room she immediately wanted to walk back out again, but Sirah grabbed her arm and pulled her in before she could follow through with that plan. 

"Sirah, no. I told you, I'd buy a dress myself," Remy whined but Sirah just made a dismissive gesture and pulled Remy further into the room and towards the ball gown hanging on a mannequin. When Remy gave it a closer look, her eyes widened.

The gown was gorgeous. 

Dark green, floor long, with long sleeves and beautiful gold embroidery. The skirt was slim but not tight, with a slit up to the knee, the neckline decorated with little golden details. The back neckline was low-cut and fell into loose folds low on the back, while the dress was held together just below the back of the neck by a thin, dark green cord, bound into a little bow, the rest of the cord hanging down the back. 

Next to it, on a little table, sat a matching mask, emerald green, gold details, with little, hinted wings at the sides and two cords to knot together behind the head. 

"You have got to be kidding!" Remy exclaimed, her finger tentatively touching the soft fabric, afraid to stain it or that it could fall apart if she gripped it to hard. When she looked back at her friend she saw Sirah's satisfied grin. 

"You love it. Just admit it. And you're gonna look stunning in it. Our house elves back home made it and it will fit you perfectly, so no worries. But for now, we're gonna do the last thing, I wanted to teach you. I mean, obviously you're gonna need someone as good as me on the ball to actually do it, duh, but I'm positive you're partner's gonna be passable enough," Sirah continued to ramble on as she went over to the phonograph to start the music again, the dress folding itself up and disappearing through the door. 

Remy took off her blazer and pulled her hair up into a messy bun again, loosened her tie. Sirah joined her in the middle of the room, where they immediately took positions and Sirah started to lead Remy across the dance floor. They practised the last move Sirah had wanted to try, a low dip, and it went surprisingly well. Remy clung onto Sirah's back for her life while she blushed each time Sirah smirked at her before she pulled her up. 

That was until they tried it one last time before calling it a night. The sky outside had grown dark and stars had already appeared and they were just slow-dancing to another waltz by Tchaikovsky. Sirah looked at Remy and blinked once to tell her to prepare for the dip and Remy brought her hands up around Sirah's shoulders and once Remy was concentrating on not losing her grip on her friend's back, Sirah bent down just a bit more, holding Remy at the same height and pressed her lips to Remy's.  
Remy's mind went blank. 

She let out a little shriek and yanked back her arms, but Sirah simply tightened her grip on her friend's body and pulled her back up, so they were standing straight again, close together, Sirah still softly pressing her lips to her friend's. 

Within seconds Remy's mind went from numb blankness to haywire and she pushed Sirah away and stumbled back, gasping for air. Sirah stepped a few feet away, her expression weary and concerned, one hand outstretched. 

"Remy, listen, I'm -," she started but Remy just held up a hand and shook her head, one hand touching her lips, her eyes huge circles. Her mouth opened, trying to say something, but no sound came out. The combination of Sirah's concerned eyes, the feeling of her lips still on Remy's and their bodies pressed close together was too much for her to handle. She turned around abruptly and bolted for the door. 

"Rem!" Sirah called after her, a note of desperation in her voice, but Remy just ignored it and left the room, not slowing down her run until she had reached the Gryffindor common room, where the Fat Lady just took one look at her face and quietly swung open to let her in. Remy gave her a small nod of appreciation before quickly making her way upstairs to their dorm room, where she, without sparing Jane or Petra even a glance, headed into the bathroom, changed and fell into her bed without another word. 

She didn't even notice, that Sirah never came back to their room that night. 

 

Remy was staring at herself in the mirror of their dorm room, her hands slowly smoothing down the fabric of her gown, taking in the complicated hair up-do, the mask covering the upper half of her face, the complex, colour matching make-up and nail polish, the high heels that made her legs look longer and slimmer. 

Objective, she looked beautiful. 

Remy herself thought she looked awful. 

She and Sirah hadn't spoken in three days. After their kiss Remy had avoided being in the same room as her friend when it wasn't absolutely necessary and Sirah had made sure to not corner her, something Remy was infinitely grateful for. Still she felt awful. 

Jane had tried to talk to her and Remy knew that Sirah had not done that, because even though she knew that Jane would never judge Remy for her actions, she would always take Sirah's side maybe without wanting to. Remy couldn't judge her for that. 

She didn't know what to do. The three days had done nothing to change how she felt about the older girl, had done nothing to ease the confusion. But the kiss had overwhelmed Remy and she had reacted by pure instinct and now she was too afraid to face the awkwardness that would be their reconciliation. 

Remy sighed and turned her head to look at the note lying on her desk. She picked up the piece of parchment with two fingers, once again reading the words written on it. 

"You look amazing in that dress. Brings out your eyes. I could stare at you all day. Love, P." 

She smiled slightly. Maybe after tonight she would finally get some closure. Maybe after tonight she could finally talk to Sirah and tell her exactly what had been on her mind lately and why she had been acting so weirdly. 

A look at the clock told her that she had another few minutes left before she had to go downstairs and Remy walked over to her bed where the shoe box with the golden heels, that Sirah had forced her into, stood. She opened the box and then sat down next to it, to lean forward and put them on. Even after all the dance lessons while wearing those shoes, Remy still felt slightly wobbly on them but at least she wasn't falling every three seconds anymore. 

Remy threw one last look at the note lying on top of the book pile and took a deep breath. "Well, what are we waiting for?" she whispered to herself and looked at herself in the mirror one last time, before she righted her mask and then left the dorm to join the ball. 

 

The great hall was incredibly crowded when Remy arrived and she felt her heartbeat steadily quickening. With slow steps she entered the hall and immediately made her way over to the side where there were a few tables unoccupied, while keeping an eye out for her friends. Neither Jane nor Sirah had been in their dorm all day and Petra had left two hours earlier than Remy so it was no surprise that Remy couldn't find them right away. 

She took a seat close to the edge of the hall, just watching all the swirling pairs on the dance floor, the flowing dress, the black suits, the beautifully crafted masks, the glow of magic candlelight floating through the air above their heads. Without even noticing it a smile crept onto Remy's face. Watching the dancers was somewhat calming and she noticed how her body relaxed slightly. 

The music, the familiar tones brought her back to the dance lessons with Sirah, hour upon hour spent in the Room of Requirements, dancing, laughing, joking. Remy remembered her friend's body, pressed against hers, how she could feel Sirah's laugh reverberate through her chest and fill the air, how she had stared at the other girl, at the full lines of her lips, the rosy glow of her cheeks in the light of the fading sun, her eyes, glinting with mischief. She remembered the feeling of Sirah's hand on her back, the way she would sometimes push a stray strand of Remy's brown hair back behind her ear, the way she listened to everything Remy had to say. And out of all those things, Remy remembered their kiss, no matter how quick, no matter how unexpected, Sirah's soft lips on hers and her arms around Remy's body. 

Remy smiled, a warm feeling filling her, starting in her chest, slowly spreading through her whole body and suddenly it hit her full force.  
She was in love. Completely, totally, madly in love with her best friend and she hadn't even noticed. Remy wanted to laugh out loud at the realisation and she quickly got up from her seat. She had to find Sirah. She had to tell her and make it all right, before it was too late. 

Just as she got up, someone stepped in front of her, blocking the way to the exit. In her hurry, Remy didn't even bother to see who it was, she just wanted to find Sirah, but then the person spoke up: "You look amazing in that dress. Brings out your eyes. I could stare at you all day." And Remy's head flew up. 

The person was wearing slim fitted slacks that ended just above the ankle with black dress shoes, a long, wine red blazer over a white dress shirt and their face was hidden behind a finely worked red mask with silver and golden accents. Their short black hair was straight and neatly combed and only the eyes were visible through the mask. 

Still, Remy would recognise that voice, those eyes everywhere. Now the "P" finally made sense. 

A huge grin lit up her face and those by now so familiar butterflies were back, the warm feeling had now reached her toes and fingertips. 

"You don't look too bad yourself," she murmered and looked directly into Sirah's eyes, where she could see a rare uncertainty. Remy winced slightly and gently took Sirah's hands into her own. 

"Look, I'm sorry for running off that other night. I just wasn't ready and suddenly you were kissing me and no one's ever kissed me like that before. I overreacted and I'm so very sorry for how I treated you. I've been sorting things out those last days and I finally got to a conclusion and that may just be that I'm completely, head over heels in love with you and I don't know how I could ever make it up to you and I-" Remy had so much more on her mind that she wanted to tell Sirah but when she saw the dangerous glistening in her friend's eyes, she stopped her rambling. She carefully brought her hands up and slowly lifted Sirah's mask, to see the thin tear tracks on her friend's cheeks.  
Remy smiled softly, gently wiping away the small tears on Sirah's cheeks, before she raised herself up on her tiptoes to tenderly press her lips to Sirah's. 

This kiss was so very different from their first one, this one was soft, loving, full of all the things Remy had bottled up the last three days, all the emotions, all the words left unsaid. Sirah's breathing hitched and she brought up her arms around Remy's waist, pulling her closer as she reciprocated the kiss, a little more enthusiastic. 

When they finally broke apart, they stayed close, Remy's hands still on Sirah's cheeks and their foreheads pressed together. Sirah kept her eyes closed while Remy softly stroked her cheeks. 

"You have no idea," Sirah began and if her voice sounded a little broken, Remy pretended not to notice, "Moony, you had no idea, for how long I've wanted to kiss you and hold you and finally call you mine. When you ran out of that room, I felt like you had taken half of my heart with you." 

Remy smiled sadly. 

"I'm so sorry, Pads. For waiting so long and for running off. I'll make it up to you, I swear." She leaned back slightly, slipping Sirah's mask back down onto her face with a grin. "But for now, why don't we make use of those dance lessons?" 

Sirah chuckled, still a bit choked up but grateful for the distraction and Remy ignoring the moment of weakness she had shown, then she nodded and took Remy's hand, leading her to the dance floor, just in time for Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake Valse to start to play. 

"May I have this dance, Mylady?" Sirah asked, offering Remy her hand, which Remy took, gracefully stepping into Sirah's personal space, her hand automatically coming up to rest on her friend's shoulder. 

"You may," she replied with an easy smile. 

And as Sirah swirled her across the dance floor, her dress floating around her, their movements practiced and easy, Remy felt that warm feeling again, all the way from the top of her head down to the tip of her toes. Sirah's hands were warm and safe on her back and in her hand and then on the back of her head, as she dipped her low and Remy caught Sirah's eyes, just as she was about to be pulled back up, and she couldn't help but smile. 

 

This was everything.

**Author's Note:**

> So that was that. I hope you liked it!  
> If you did, feel free to leave a comment and kudos, I'd really love to hear your opinion!


End file.
